morning light fights to make its place among the branches

shy sunrays lick insecurely dew on the grass

breeze waking up

as he stomps through the woods

fallen leaves breaking the silence

absorbing the imprint of his boots

as she absorbs his most precious secret

he is coming home

looking for him through the window

an overdried teacup with a kitchen cloth

repetitive round motions, like a mantra

looking beyond the tree line

she is waiting

the lumberjack comes home

the door surrounding under his enormous arms

the fire crackles with desire

-but not as much as hers

between the bloated veins inside her thighs

he finds peace

under his huge body dripping with sweat

she finds war

and he wants more peace

and she wants more war